


tattoo love into my skin and watch the letters darken, seeping in

by giggy_milkovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, TATTOOS!, dads being dads, super cute bonding time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giggy_milkovich/pseuds/giggy_milkovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3686793/chapters/8154174">Family Values</a>-verse: Ian and Mickey 7 years since S5. They're happy, they're married, and things are good. And Yevgeny is a lil' muffin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tattoo love into my skin and watch the letters darken, seeping in

The rain pattered softly against the living room window as Ian and Mickey lounged on the couch, Ian’s head resting in Mickey’s lap as they watched the end of a Van Damme movie marathon. The cable signal flickered in and out thanks to the storm, so Ian focused his attention on Mickey’s hand on his chest, stroking the milky white skin and tracing the letters etched on each knuckle. He loved the contrast of it all, hard and soft, menacing and tender, absolute balance in their own special way.

“Whatcha doin’?” Mickey sang softly, keeping his eyes glued the TV.

“They’re starting to fade.”

Mickey looked down at his hands and the man caressing them, raising an eyebrow as he took in the words stamped across his fingers. The ink shone more of a blue-black as opposed to the darker pigment it once used to be. “Yeah, so?” 

“You ever thought about getting it touched up?”

Mickey’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”

“Why not?” Ian searched the older man’s eyes, looking for the disdain that lingered below the surface of their gaze.

“‘Cause it’s already a shitty tattoo, why would I draw more attention to it?” Mickey countered. He pulled his hand out of Ian’s grasp and rubbed at the inked skin, part of him wishing that the letters would smudge under his touch. 

“It’s a part of you. What, you don’t like it?”

Mickey avoided his eyes. “I was 14 and stupid, what’s to like?”

A thousand different answers came to Ian’s mind but he settled on the very first one, the one he’d discovered all those years ago when he was 15 and stupid and irreversibly smitten. “Well, yeah, they’re crude or whatever, but they’re part of what I love about you—hard on the outside, soft on the inside.” Ian grabbed Mickey’s hands and held them in his own, placing gentle open-mouth kisses on the skin. 

“Sap,” Mickey blushed with no intention of taking his hand away. 

“I’m serious, Mick. I love your hands. Besides, you look sexy with tattoos.” Ian looked up with a mischievous smile.

“Oh really? So the ink turns you on?” Mickey perked up.

Ian’s lips turned up into a smirk. “Among other things…”

“Uh-huh…” Mickey bit his bottom lip, threading his fingers through the man’s ginger strands before leaning down for a kiss. They lingered, tongues lazily fighting one another as the brushed against the insides of their mouths. They breathed in one another’s scent, blending together. Mickey pulled back, lips rosy and breath unsteady as he dragged his fingers lightly across Ian’s eagle tattoo, lifting his cotton t-shirt.

“So what about you, Mr. America?”

Ian scrunched his eyebrows. “What about me?”

“You thinking ‘bout gettin’ more ink?” The skin below Mickey’s hand grew warmer, Ian’s chest rising and falling in time to his own.

Ian put his hand on top of Mickey’s, looking down with a sad smile. “I don’t know. I barely remember getting this one.” The both fell into an awkward silence. It had been years since they’d even talked about that time in the army and those early manic days. It was a thing that hung above their heads like an annoying housefly. They’d learn to live with it by now but some days it buzzed louder than others.

Well, you look pretty sexy, too, tough guy,” Mickey chimed, lightening the mood. 

Ian chuckled. “Is Mickey Milkovich calling me hot?”

“Oh fuck off, like you didn’t already know,” Mickey wiggled his eyebrows playfully. He squeezed Ian’s sides, watching him squirm and arch his back. Ian responded by biting the inside of Mickey’s arm and sucking onto the soft flesh. 

 

“Can I get a tattoo?” Yev interrupted, strolling in from his room down the hall.

Mickey leaned up and rested his head on the back of the couch. “How long you been snooping, kid?”

“Long enough. Can I get a tattoo?”

“Nope,” Mickey replied simply.

Yev huffed and trudged toward his two dads. “Why not? You and Een have tattoos.”

“Me and Ian are stupid. You stupid?”

“I’m your son so I guess so.” Yev shrugged his shoulders.

Ian laughed throatily. “S’got a point there.”

Mickey slapped the side of Ian’s head. “Shut up.”

The man sat up, feigning hurt and stretched his neck. “What kind of tattoo do you want?” Ian asked Yev. 

Yev stuck his arms out in front of him, his hands curled into tight fists. “A knuckle tattoo like Dad.”

“Oh _really_?” Ian drew out, nudging his husband.

Mickey frowned and stared back at his son. “No. _Hell_ no.”

“Come on Dad, pleeeeeeease?” Yev begged. “Please please please please _pleeeeeeeeeeaaas—_ ”

Mickey reached out and put a hand over his mouth, muffling his words. “You know how much shit I have to put up with because of these words on my hands?” He pulled back to flash his son his inked fingers. Taking in a deep breath, he continued. “You see this? This makes Dad’s life harder. Your life doesn’t need to be any harder.”

Yev’s face fell with defeat. “But I like your hands,” he murmured lowly.

Before Mickey could respond, Ian stood up and shuffled over to dining room table, sifting through the messy piles atop it until he found a permanent marker. “Here, sit down and put your hands on the table.” He waved Yev over and tapped on the chair in front of him. Mickey stared, confused yet intrigued.

Once Yev sat down, Ian kneeled down and began writing on his small knuckles in the black ink. “No peeking.”

Yev closed his eyes. “It tickles.”

“Yeah, well a needle tickles more, little guy. Try not to flinch, ‘k?”

He sucked in his lip and remained laser-focused on making sure the letters all lined up correctly. Mickey craned his neck forward from across the room, trying to catch a glance. 

Ian recapped the marker and blew out heavy breaths on Yev’s fingers to make sure the ink was dry. “There. How’s that?”

Yev squinted, anxious to see the results. “Cool!” he beamed as he flexed his fingers and clenched his hands. “Dad look! I look like you!”

The young boy ran over, punching the air and doing the best impression of his father as he could. “What do you think?” he raised his eyebrows and smirked.

Mickey burst into laughter, processing the words “LOVE U-UP” written across his kid’s hands in big letters. “Very badass.”

 

Ian smiled as he sauntered over to his two favorite boys. If he never got another tattoo, so be it. The marks they’d left on him over the years sunk deep under his skin, etched there forever.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://www.thedailygiggy.tumblr.com)


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